


Paint it over

by rusalka_dances_the_polka



Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-28 07:06:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusalka_dances_the_polka/pseuds/rusalka_dances_the_polka
Summary: If it weren’t for her art, Rapunzel would have probably tried to leave her tower sooner… or might have never had the chance…





	Paint it over

„Rapunzel! You’re giving me an headache, honestly! What on earth is this!?“ Gothel rubbed the bridge of her nose, one of her hands stemmed to her side. Just when she thought the girl couldn’t possibly find new ways to grind on her nerves… 

Last month Gothel had caught her watching flying birds all glossy eyed and when asked why in the world she was staring holes into thin air, it actually developed into a full-blown shouting match – or rather Gothel was shouting, while Rapunzel first waxed poetic about flying as free as a bird, where no one be’d able to hurt her and then descended into a hissy fit, worth a snotty-nosed princess (as her mother told her): the girl bawled out her eyes about how her mother was keeping her in a gilded cage. Which caused Gothel to scream louder at her daughter and ended with Rapunzel running up to her room. 

Gothel had thought it was a freak occurence. Just an extra annoying outburst of her regular outbursting daughter. But then last week Rapunzel had reached a new hight of insolence and accused her mother of not caring enough for her. All because she had forgotten that she promised Rapunzel one sheet of parchment for each day she had been gone. Which would have been three. Gothel had only brought one and only after remembering it last minute before she had left the town where she had sold some of Rapunzels needlework in exhange for food. The girl ought to be thankful she had gotten any paper at all! It wasn’t like this „hobby“ of hers was in any way useful. Unlike her sewing, chrocheting and baking it didn’t bring in any money. Then the girl did another thing she had never done till then… she got sassy. Not only that but she got sassy trying to argue how parchment paper really wasn’t all that heavy. In that moment Gothel realized she had to do something. Something drastic, because it seemed her little flower might try to grow some thorns and before Gothel had to cut the whole stem, she’d rather break off every last one of those thorns. Deciding to start on the spot, Gothel took the parchment from her daughters hand and ripped it to shreds in front of Rapunzel. She then made her clean up the mess before sending her to her room, to think about the way she had treated „the one person who loves you most!“

Unlike Gothel had expected, Rapunzel had not come crawling back immidiately to her, fawning for her mothers forgiveness. Instead she got cold avoidance and guarded looks. The woman didn’t like this one bit. The truth was: she didn’t love the girl. She loved the magic abilities of her hair, not the person attached to it. But that didn't mean she didn't care for her. She had raised the child as if she were her own after all. She knew, that having a loving and loyal daughter was far more preferable than letting her vegetate in a cell. That would have been just depressing. Having another persons adoration was far nicer than being feared and despised. Of course: Gothel expected that it couldn’t be like this forever. Rapunzel had shown a lot of free spirit even as a child and her mother could only hope to clip this spirits wings as long as possible. She just didn’t expect it so soon, when the girl was still a child. One that soon would start to become a woman, that much was true. But right now she was still very much a child. An incredible annoying one. Making Gothel long for the days when Rapunzel started to manage on her own, while still being completely content to learn, sing, and being told fairytales. When her answers to the childs harebrained questions were met with „Yes, mommy.“

Nonetheless Gothel had to plan for a time when Rapunzel might actually try to leave the tower. She decided to seek out one of her other, long abandoned hiding places. The place was a cove, hidden in the cliffside near the original location of the sundrop flower and was only accessible through tunnels or a hole in the cliff. Though this place would be too high to reach… even with Rapunzels hair. In the cove itself was anything one would need to live comfortably. With it’s complicated mazelike tunnels, the hidden traps and mechanisms it was something of a stronghold. Rapunzel wouldn’t be able to just jump out of there… Gothel had lived there for decades after finding the flower and just needed to get everything ready for a her return, adding just one thing: bars and some shackles…

Their Goodbyes and hug were short and clipped this time. Unusual for her daughters familiar needy behavior. But Gothel had come to expect the unexpected from her. That’s why she was taking the journey in the first place.

Upon her return some days later, Gothel was greeted by a chipper and happy Rapunzel. Which wouldn’t have been out oft he ordinary just a few weeks ago, but now it made her suspicious. She didn’t take long to notice that her daughter tried to keep her from going up to her bedroom, betraying herself by being even more hyper than usual. So of course the first thing she did when she noticed, was finding an excuse to take the steps to her daughters bedroom. When Gothel told Rapunzel that she’d take her pillows measurements to buy some new fabric for them, the girl almost tripped over herself to tell her mother that she could do it for her (which she would have told her daughter to do, had she really had the intention to buy fabric). Moments later Gothel stood in Rapunzels bedroom where the girl tried to block her view from the shelf and made her mother smile to herself: „Rapunzel… step aside“ she said with a sigh „really flower… I can see right through you. You may as well be made out of glas.“ 

With that Rapunzel stepped to the side with pulled up shoulders and an unsure smile forming on her lips but saying nothing. Upon seeing what Rapunzel had tried to hide, Gothel rolled her eyes…

„Rapunzel! You’re giving me an headache, honestly! What on earth is this!?“ Gothel rubbed the bridge of her nose, one of her hands stemmed to her side. Her daughter had painted the back of her shelf with flowers, ranks and letters… just great... If the girl started one of her episodes right this moment? Gothel would consider taking her to the cliffside hideout on the spot. She’d tell she’d get her wish to finally go outside, that she'd take her on a nice little trip to the sea and then her mother would take her to a cell that actually could use some color on the walls.

This thought and the almost indicernible smile on Rapunzels face, that was still in place even after she had flinched at her mothers outburst, made her pause though... In a softer tone she added: „Really child? I forget your parchment and you start drawing on the wall? Is this some kind of revenge?“. That’s when Rapunzel spoke up: „Actually mother I thought that, well…“ She started to play with a strand of her hair- this time Gothel did not shut her down, so continuing she said „well, I could just skip the parchment and instead draw directly on the walls. That way you only have to worry about paint, which I need less often than new parchment. The walls are for free and there’s so much space! That way I’ll always find something to do and won’t get bored so fast.“ She looked hopefully up at Gothel, who glanced at the shelf again. It was true. Her daughter oftentimes lost herself in her art, concentrating for hours on her drawings. If this worked, she might be able to stay a bit longer in the tower with an adoring daughter instead of a hostile prisoner. The first sounded infinitely better, so after a moment Gothel smiled at her daughter and said: „Well if that’s the case you’ll be happy to hear that I felt so bad about our last argument, so I brought you a special, fine paint, made from seashells…“

She wasn’t surprised by her daughters outcry of joy.


End file.
